Just a Touch of Chaos
by Blitzdrake
Summary: Sometimes, Butters is just a little too gentle and caring, especially in the bedroom. If not for that he'd be the perfect boyfriend. How can Kenny fix that before he goes crazy? Bunny two-parter with a bit of Style fluff. Lemon in Chapter two.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** This was supposed to be a one-shot to practice slighty-lemonish writing, since some of my multi-chappy fics were heading that way. I felt it was better to develope the style and 'feel' out what needed to be fixed in an exploratory short, than make a glaring mistake in a fic I'd heavily invested in already. That said, my internal issues with brevity made the one-shot into a two-shot. Think of Chapter one as the emotional set up. The young, weak-hearted, and perpetually innocent should probably stop at the end of Chapter one. ^_^So...um...Enjoy I hope.

**Warnings:** Strong language, specifically the ridiculous abuse of F-bombs at one point when Kenny runs out of more eloquent words. Oh and someone says penis and cock!! Le gasp. The second chapter will be lemony fresh and I don't mean pledge seeing as that was the reason I wrote this li'l story. Kenny/Butters slash with some very brief Style fluff in Chapter 1.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own South Park or any of its charismatic characters; they belong to Matt Stone and Trey Parker.

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"I believe in love, lust, sex, romance. I don't want everything to add up to the perfect equation...I want mess and chaos. I want someone to go crazy out of his mind for me. I want to feel passion, heat, and madness. I want it all." ~ Tori Pflibsen

Just A Touch of Chaos

Kenny McCormick stared out his bedroom window with a sullen frown on his face. The car-part littered lawn was doing little to improve his mood, but it beat staring at his room as he had been for the past hour, glaring at faded posters and piles of clothing. Unable to find inspiration in the view he returned his attention to his lap, where his hand hovered over his cell-phone, one of his only valuable worldly possessions. The screen was at his inbox, composing a text message only half-entered. The frown turned sharper again and Kenny's hand moved away from the phone, still unsure how to finish the text. With a disgusted sigh of discontent, he rhythmically began hitting his head on the headboard behind him as he tried to figure out what he wanted to say.

So why all the trouble? What possible issue could have managed to bring down one of the most easy going kids at South Park High? In spite of his carefree smile and ready sense of humor, Kenny had been nursing a serious concern, a discontent that seemed very inappropriate considering how well his life was going. You see, Kenny had a problem, a big one. And that problem centered around Kenny's all time favorite past-time. Sex.

The problem wasn't that Kenny couldn't get any. There was no point in Kenny's life that he could recall where 'not getting enough' was ever an issue. Thanks to a lucky genetic draw he happened to enjoy sex with either gender, as did far too many kids at South Park, so he had a large pool to choose from. He also happened to be able to get that sex whenever he wanted and with almost whomever he wanted. This was mostly due to the even luckier quirk of birth that had blessed him with disarming blue eyes, blonde hair that fell into a sexy tousled look without effort when he woke, and a stunning smile that was quite remarkable considering he couldn't afford a dentist. Even the personal misfortune of his poverty actually helped him in some regards; scant meals had kept his body naturally lean long before he toned it out by running for track.

The problem wasn't even that the sex was meaningless. _Well ok_…_it was meaningless…but not anymore_. All that had changed six months ago when Kenny had finally confronted his own fears of commitment and begun a hard fought campaign of seduction to win over the one kid at school who had ever managed to stir those annoying, pussy-ish little butterfly feelings in his stomach. His target, the bashful, , blushing blonde, Butters Stotch. And all those efforts had proven successful. _Very successful._

Even now, thinking about the day Butters had finally relented to a date still brought a faint smile to Kenny's face. The thought of the endless make out sessions and far worse he'd managed to persuade his boyfriend into doing in the month's since turned that faint smile into a blatant smirk of lust and satisfaction.

Kenny's hand twitched, moving to the contact list of his phone without thought and cycling through the numbers before settling on Butters. His thumb hovered briefly over the call button, before the phone flashed a warning message asking if he'd like to save his unfinished text as a draft. The smile died almost instantly. _Oh yeah, the problem._

Kenny saved the message, but didn't complete the hastily begun act of dialing his boyfriend. Instead he cycled through the list of names, seeking inspiration. Occasionally a name would come up that caused the internal discord to flare, Craig, Clyde, Stan. Every one of them was an unsubtle little stab into the heart of his current dilemma. Finally a name turned up that didn't evoke unpleasant reminders nor bland nothingness, but instead stirred a faint sense of hope. An emotion Kenny had been desperately seeking since he began confronting his problem a week past.

Without any of the hesitation that had marked his actions earlier, he pressed send. The phone dialed twice before it picked up. As soon as he heard the other end pick up Kenny composed himself, trying to force his voice to take on his normal cavalier tone and hide the worry and guilt that had been gnawing at him.

"Hey Kyle, I need to talk. Can I come over?"

**XXXXX**

Twenty minutes later Kenny was circling the block that Kyle lived on. Technically Kenny could have made it in ten, five if he put real effort into it. A car was a pipe dream for someone as poor as Kenny, so he'd become an expert at getting anywhere in South Park on foot in very good time. Not this time; however, Kenny was not moving with his usual speed. The momentary burst of courage that had driven him to call Kyle had faded as soon as he stepped out into the crisp Colorado air. On his way over he ignored every shortcut, twisting down unnecessary side alleys and taking out-of-the-way streets to delay reaching his destination.

_What was I thinking? Kyle's probably the last person I should be talking to about this. He gets flustered even when it's Stan who brings up sex in conversation and I'm pretty sure they do it like rabbits. And Kyle already has issues with how I behaved before Butters. Why did I think this was a good idea?_ With a groan Kenny passed Kyle's street again, his feet already angling back towards his home. Excuses for canceling on Kyle were already filtering through his head. _I'll just make something up about bumping into Cartman and going to get pizza or something. Kyle wont come if Cartman's there, and he'd never call him to check on the story._

Mind made up, Kenny was already reaching for his phone when a text popped up.

'Dude, where r u? Stan and I r waiting.'

_Stan, fuck._ Again that unwelcome surge of lust and discontent frothed in his stomach. Stan was one of the people he did not want to have this talk in front of. Worse, his excuse was gone. Stan would think pizza with Cartman was awesome and invite himself. Then he'd begin bugging Kyle to come as well. And of course Kyle could never say no to something when Stan asked.

'Sorry. I can visit l8r.' Kenny replied, while calling himself a coward under his breath.

The response was instant, clearly Kyle was waiting and Kenny could almost see Kyle in his head, frowning at his phone impatiently.

'Dude stop stalling. I know something's up. Get here.'

_Fuck, how could he tell? _Kenny replayed the phone call earlier as well as his behavior over the past week. He'd been so sure that he'd kept everything hidden. If Kyle had noticed who else might have? Wendy? Bebe? Craig? Butters? _Please god, at least not Butters._

Feeling trapped by his own stupidity, Kenny trudged the last block to Kyle's house. He knocked on the door listlessly feeling defeated. It was answered quickly enough by Kyle's little brother.

"Hey Ike," Kenny smirked, adopting a false smile so as not to arouse suspicion. It was bad enough that people in his High School might have caught on. He didn't want this mess spreading to the middle school as well. Ike was far too perceptive for a seventh grader.

With a bored expression Ike pulled the door wider and gestured towards the stairs with a nod of his head, "He's in his room with Stan; they've been waiting for you."

"How do you know that?" Kenny nervously asked. Had Kyle said something to Ike? Who else? Would the whole town know by Monday morning?

"Duh," the little genius rolled his eyes, "Stan's been here for ten minutes and Kyle hasn't locked his door for 'privacy.' Then you show up during 'Stan' time." Ike's right eyebrow lifted in amusement as he said that last part. He smiled sarcastically as he finished, "If it's not to see them, why else would you be _here_?"

_Crap, it is Stan and Kyle time, how could I have forgotten? _Between different sports, their countless friends, and Kyle's insanely difficult classes, the red head found precious time for just his boyfriend. To counter that, Kyle had declared Sunday afternoons 'Stan time,' to be interrupted only by their closest friends and only for the gravest of emergencies.

Of course, there was a good side to this news. At least now Kenny knew how Kyle had figured out something serious was wrong. As some of his unfounded worries were lifted, Kenny let out a low chuckle. He ruffled Ike's soft black hair teasingly as he walked past the boy towards the stairs, eliciting a flush from the little Canadian. "Maybe I just wanted to see if Kyle's little brother had gotten cuter, which by the way…he has," Kenny said with a wink. Even harmless flirting, considering their age gap and Kenny's boyfriend, was still effective at quieting Ike and hopefully distracting that razor sharp mind from being too curious as to the reason behind Kenny's visit.

Leaving the flustered boy behind him, Kenny climbed the stairs and entered Kyle's room. Kyle and Stan were waiting on the bed, Stan leaning casually against the headboard while Kyle sat a very prudish two inches away, watching Kenny's arrival with an air of expectation. Without being asked, Kenny closed the door behind himself. As soon as the door was shut the two inches vanished as Kyle turned, laying bag against Stan, to make a cozy chair out of his boyfriend. Once settled between Stan's legs and resting his ridiculously poofy jew-fro against Stan's chest, Kyle turned his piercing green gaze on Kenny.

The portrait of peaceful boyfriend-cuddlyness on display before him, was another wrench in Kenny's day, reminding himself all too well of the boyfriend he'd been avoiding. To distract himself, Kenny walked over to the bed, grabbing the empty spot at the foot. He avoided looking directly at Stan and Kyle, instead finding himself looking out the window beside the bed. _So here I am, looking at a lawn. Again._

At the other end of the bed Kyle coughed in annoyance, clearly expecting Kenny to begin. Kenny frowned at the sound, turning to face his two best friends but still keeping his gaze directed away, studying Kyle's sheets instead. They were green. _Of course_.

Finally Stan, ever the eloquent one, spoke up, "Dude, so what's up?"

"I…" Kenny slouched back against the foot of the bed making himself more comfortable before finally looking up at his friends. His control slipped upon meeting their gaze and his confession came out in a tired voice, while his hands played with Kyle's sheets, "I have a problem. With Butters. I think we're gonna break up."

Instantly Kyle sat up, his head leaving his boyfriends chest to lean closer. Nothing caught Kyle's attention like a chance to meddle, or as he'd defensively put it, psycho-analyze. Behind him Stan shifted forward to rest his chin on Kyle's shoulder, restoring the broken contact. His arms swung around Kyle's skinny frame, unwilling to relinquish contact with Kyle's body so easily.

"What happened? What did you do?" Kyle stated bluntly.

Kenny flinched a little, feeling defensive at the question. He blinked slowly, drawing a deep breath and reminding himself not to take offense. Of course Kyle would assume he'd done something wrong. The idea of Butters doing something to hurt someone's feelings was ludicrous. And it was painfully obvious that Butters was head over heels in love, so it wasn't like he'd be thinking about leaving Kenny. _I wish I could still say the same was true for me._

"I haven't 'done,' anything. It's not like that," Kenny began, before trailing off. It was so awkward to bring the reason up. Across the bed Kyle watched skeptically, clearly waiting for more explanation. Kenny wasn't sure how to provide that answer without sounding like a whore. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to think of a delicate way to put his problem. Finally he settled for blunt honesty. "It's the sex."

When Kyle finished staring in disbelief, a hint of anger was audible in his voice, "Kenny did you seriously come over here to interrupt 'Stan time' because Butters isn't putting out enough?"

"No," Kenny grumbled unhappily. "That's not the problem. Butter's isn't…holding back. And I didn't mean to interrupt you two. I just…I forgot what day it was." Again Kenny trailed off, struggling to talk about a topic that usually came so naturally to him.

Kyle muttered angrily at the silence, clearly no longer feeling like sharing his special 'Stan' time if the problem was just Kenny and sex. The red head prodded Kenny verbally, "So spill it already. Why-"

Stan had been silent since initiating this conversation but now brought one hand over Kyle's mouth, blocking whatever else Kyle was going to say. "Let him finish Ky," Stan commanded softly, before turning Kyle's head and kissing him quietly to apologize for shutting him up. The shiver that went down Kyle's spine was matched by an unobserved one from Kenny. As Kyle settled obediently back down against Stan, Kenny became aware of those dark dominating blue eyes on him expectantly. Silently he prayed that the envy he felt wasn't obvious in his return gaze.

"The problem isn't that we aren't doing it," Kenny began. Kyle snorted sarcastically, but Stan moved quickly, biting down lightly on Kyle's pale neck to distract him. Forcefully Kenny tore his gaze from the scene and finished in a rush, "He just…What we do…it's not enough anymore."

"Really?" Stan asked surprised, "I thought he did pretty much anything you asked."

"I know he does," Kyle affirmed scathingly, "just last week I heard you two going at it in the boy's bathroom? I know for damned sure that doing it during school wasn't his idea? What else can he do to satisfy you? Let you fuck him between every period and on our table during lunch?"

The comment was meant meanly, but Kenny ignored the anger in it, too busy thinking back to the day Kyle was talking about. He'd been feeling more and more frustrated as each week passed and on that particular day, he'd finally reached the point where he couldn't wait for school to end before he fucked his adorable boyfriend's brains out. Trapping Butters in the bathroom stall had been so easy, just pretend he wasn't feeling well and needed a hand getting to the bathroom before he got sick. Once there Butters had put up only a token fight before giving in and letting Kenny do what he wanted. But it hadn't been enough, afterwards Kenny still felt as frustrated as he had before. It was then that he'd finally figured out just what was missing.

"No," Kenny replied glumly. "It isn't a question of quantity Kyle. I know I have a reputation for being insatiable but…trust me," even sad, the edges of Kenny's lips tugged upward in a momentary hint of a smile, "He's not as reserved as you think he is. He'd do it all day if I could find a place where we wouldn't be disturbed. And don't think I haven't been looking for a place like that, because I have been."

"So quality?" Kyle pushed, clearly growing more impatient. "Is Butters just bad in bed or something? I always figured he'd be too naïve to be that good, so it'd make sense."

Kenny's shoulders stiffened in irritation at both the prodding and the implication that there was anything wrong with _his _Butters. Well anything but the problem he had, which was more on his end that his boyfriends. When he replied it was with an edge to his own tone, "There's nothing wrong with Butters. The kid's a natural at everything he does, from fucking to blow jobs. The things he can do with his tongue…he can get me halfway to erect before we finish our first kiss, he's that good. If you don't believe me just ask Stan, I'm sure he remembers."

Stan winced as Kyle stiffened, turning to glare over his shoulder at his boyfriend. Kenny felt bad at bringing up old history, but he wanted some of Kyle's anger off him and on someone else and Stan made a fairly good target at the moment. That and maybe they'd stop being so damned cuddly in front of him.

The guilt was short-lived; it wasn't like he was revealing anything new, the kiss in question had occurred back in seventh grade. It wasn't even a secret, not when it happened at a sleepover in front of at least eight guys in their grade, including Kyle, during a game of Truth or Dare. It was Cartman's dare of course, an unsubtle stab at Kyle who had been vehemently denying his feelings for guys and Stan on a 'truth' question earlier that night. The party had fallen in the time shortly after Stan finally came out and way before Kyle had, so there hadn't been any good reason to stop the fat-asses dare. Besides, it was a kiss with Butters; it should have been completely harmless. The first clue that there might be more to their sheltered friend than any of them ever guessed was when that kiss went on far longer than the ten second peck the dare had required. When they'd finally broken it off, Stan had been panting hard and eyeing the blushing Butters, while most of the other guys were busying hooting and cheering, or like Kenny, staring at the little blonde with new found respect. The only person who hadn't been amused or aroused was Kyle, who had spent a month not speaking to Butters afterwards. And of course, Kyle couldn't offer any reasons for _why _he was avoiding Butters. Not that they hadn't all guessed why he was so pissed off. It was a month of trying to hide their smirks behind their hands when he stormed off unable to explain why he was bothered by a stupid 'dare-inspired' kiss.

"Well Stan?" Kyle asked between gritted teeth. "Is he that good of a kisser?" Even with Kyle currently facing away from him, Kenny knew those green eyes were probably screaming a more dangerous question, _is he better at it than me?_

Kenny chuckled as Stan's eyes widened fearfully. It was an impressive feat of bravery that Stan made no move to protect himself or inch away from the red-headed ball of anger sitting so close to his delicate parts.

"Well Ky," Stan licked his lips a moment before going on, "no. In spite of Kenny's claim, Butters didn't get me halfway to erect with just a kiss. I swear."

Kyle relaxed only slightly, but Kenny could imagine his eyes were still narrowed in suspicion. Kenny had to bite his own lip to keep from pointing out the technicality Stan was sneaking under. _You can only say that because of the 'half. I'd bet all the money I don't have that he gave you a full hard-on._

Stan's eyes flashed to Kenny's, shaking his head pleadingly at the mischief he saw in Kenny's eyes. Kenny nodded and Stan sighed in relief before pulling the still disgruntled Kyle closer and pecking him lightly on the lips.

"Besides Ky," Stan turned on the charm while pressing deeper kisses against his boyfriends lips once he was sure Kyle wouldn't bite him for trying, "You know I think you're the best kisser I've ever met."

That last bit mollified Kyle, who grudgingly allowed himself to be consoled and kissed into calming down. Kenny took the time to figure out what he wanted to say before his red-headed inquisitor remembered that Kenny was there.

"Anyway," Kenny began when Kyle returned that green-eyed and demanding stare to their guest, "I guess what I'm trying to say is, Butters is good, really good. He's also a total…he won't," Kenny grumbled. Talking about dirty deeds was usually so easy, but that was because he was normally bragging. Now it felt almost like he was snitching or complaining about Butters and that felt wrong. Finally Kenny forced it out angrily, though the anger was more at himself and his stupid inability to be happy with what Butter's was capable of, "I need fucked, damn it!"

Both of his friends leaned back at the vehemence in his tone, confused for a moment. The confusion didn't last long, it was vulgarly put but Kenny couldn't have been much clearer. Comprehension was dawning on both faces and Kenny could almost see light bulbs above their heads finally being turned on.

"Oh," Kyle began, "You mean he doesn't…er no I guess he wouldn't. Not him anyway, he's way too much of a bottom."

_Yeah, I noticed. _Kenny managed to keep the comment inside his head where the bitterness might go unnoticed.

Stan sympathetically nodded before turning a quizzical gaze to Kenny. "And you need it that badly?"

"I didn't think I would," Kenny said with a sigh. "I mean most of the time, I LIKE being the guy who does the…giving. With girls that's all I did and with most of the guys too. But every now and then I need it the other way. When I was single it was easy to deal with. I could just…take it every now and then when the need hit me. There were a few guys I could go to that I knew could really take charge and just fuck me. Craig, Clyde, Christophe…" _You, _Kenny's eyes met Stan's, sharing in the silent fourth name on his list_. _The last part was definitely not spoken aloud and part of why being in the same room as Stan while he was being…the way he got with Kyle, was so torturous to Kenny right now. Stan nodded in some silent empathy as well as gratitude for the omission.

Kenny shrugged in response. It was certainly not something he could bring up. Kyle knew Stan and Kenny had fooled around briefly back before Kyle had come out and they'd become what they were now. Back then Kenny and Stan had agreed to keep Kyle out of the loop on how far they'd gone, mostly because even then it had been obvious Kyle had issues with other people getting too close to Stan. Granted it was Kyle's fault Stan had done anything with anyone else since Kyle had taken so damn long coming to terms with being gay and in love with his super best the whole, 'it's your fault the love of your life fucked me once or twice, years ago,' wasn't the kind of conversation Kenny ever wanted to have with Kyle. Sure death wasn't permanent, but it still hurt and Kyle definitely wouldn't be in the mood to kill him gently.

"So have you tried finding another way to get fucked without Butters having to do it?" Kyle flushed at his own bold suggestion.

Kenny glared, misconstruing the question and being offended at the implication.

"I'm not that much of a whore Kyle. I won't cheat on him. Or bring a third guy in to share him. He doesn't deserve the first and neither of us would be happy with the second. I'd rather…" Kenny balked at saying the last part. The alternative was what he'd been debating miserably, but saying it out loud still hurt. He tried to hide the raw misery in his voice when he finished, "…I'd break up with him before I strung him along or cheated on him. I'd rather hurt him honestly than do something like that."

Kyle reached across the bed to hold Kenny's hand sympathetically.

"Dude, I didn't mean that. I know you really like him… and I know you're not that type." Kyle's hand squeezed Kenny's before he continued, "That wasn't what I meant anyway. When I said another way I was thinking…well…you know…substitutes for a c-," Kyle flushed adorably before forcing the word out, "cock."

Kenny looked at Kyle in confusion.

Kyle blushed redder, clearly too flustered to explain.

Stan fortunately took pity on his boyfriend and finished Kyle's thought. "He means sex toys Ken. Like a dildo or something. Just fucking yourself with something other than someone's penis."

Kenny shrugged ruefully while Kyle flushed at the words even if they'd been his own oblique suggestion.

"Already tried that. It's not the same. There's no feeling of being out of control when it's your hand at the wheel. Or of being dominated. I didn't realize how much that mattered till I was facing the idea that I might never get it again. I don't mind that I'm mostly going to be the top, because he's so damned good at being fucked. And Butters is pretty strong in other ways. Outside of the bedroom he's good at keeping the give and take fair."

Neither Stan or Kyle seemed to believe that last part but Kenny didn't feel like explaining. That was part of Butters that belonged to him alone and he preferred it that way. No one else knew just how much Butters could take emotionally, since he didn't like talking about the kinds of things his parents put him through. Or Cartman. But he told Kenny and more importantly listened when Kenny talked about his own troubles. It was remarkable how comforting it was to have someone who could understand just how very, very unfair life could be and how you just had to grit your teeth and endure. Butters was the one person he didn't have to keep quiet with on anything that upset him, the one person he never had to hold back with or be unhappy with. _Until now. Until this…stupid, stupid problem._

"Is it…really that bad?" Kyle began. "I…Stan does almost all the fucking and it doesn't bother him," Kyle's eyes widened in panic as he turned to look at Stan with worried eyes. "It doesn't bother you does it?"

"No Ky," Stan replied with a reassuring smile, possessively pulling his boyfriend closer, "trust me, I have no complaints with just fucking you. Besides," Stan's voice turned teasing, "you can be pretty dominating even when I'm the one sticking it in you."

Again Kyle flushed which caused Kenny to bite back a groan of arousal and envy both. To distract himself he answered Kyle's first question even though Kyle had forgotten it entirely while staring lustfully at Stan.

"Yes it's that bad. I can't even enjoy fucking him anymore. Every time we do it, I just start getting angry. Angry at him for not wanting to fuck me back. Angry at myself for letting something so stupid get in the way of everything we could have. Angry that I can't be satisfied with the mind-blowing fuck I'm in the middle of having. Then when I'm angry I just fuck him harder, which of course turns him on more because he's fucking hot like that. Which should be fucking turning me on more, I mean, god he's so fucking sexy when he's practically writhing under me. But then I just get more pissed off because that's what I want to be getting too. It's just so fucked up." _Wow, used fuck a bit much there? I can't get that stupid word off my mind anymore!_

"Have you told him all of this? Maybe if you just talked about it and worked around to asking him to be the top, he'd do it," Stan commented, while Kyle just stared, his jaw still hanging low from Kenny's rant.

"Yeah, right Stan," there was no hiding the bitter sarcasm in his voice at this point. "First I'll tell my super sensitive boyfriend how upset I am, _knowing_ he gets worked up when even assholes like Cartman are angry or upset with him. Then I'll give him a guilt complex by telling him that it's partially his fault, and that all the great sex he's been getting lately is because I'm so pissed off at 'us' that I can't see straight while I'm ramming him. And I'll finish off by asking him to push me down and fuck me brainless like the dominating stud he is. I'm sure Butter's would take that real well. I can just hear his answer now. 'golly, K-k-ken, if that's all you wanted, why didn't you just say so sooner? I'll p-pound you something fierce, boy howdy.'"

In spite of the seriousness, Stan had to bite back a snort of laughter at Kenny's Butters imitation.

"Fair enough," he said after regaining control. "But you could still ask him to fuck you. Just say you want to have a little fun with something new and seduce him into saying yes. I'm sure with the hold you have over him, he'd do it. You got him to go skinny dipping with us in the hot tub and his shyness is at least as big an issue for him as the whole topping thing would be. It only took you two minutes of nibbling on his ear and whispering to get him from wringing his hands and blushing, to butt naked and racing for the hot tub."

Kenny chuckled for a second. "Only because I told him how badly I wanted to jerk him off once the bubbles came on and no one could see."

"Sick, dude," Kyle complained in disgust, "We were in the tub with you two."

"Yeah," Kenny smirked, "That's what made it so hot. He couldn't cry out or anything, just sit there and bite his tongue."

"I thought his face was just red from the heat and the whole skinny dipping thing," Stan replied with a grin, far more amused than Kyle. Kenny could almost see the plans running through his dark-haired friend's imagination. Woe to anyone else stuck in the hot tub, next time Stan and Kyle went in.

With regret Kenny returned to the conversation at hand, breaking up the most light-hearted moment he'd had in a week.

"And yeah, I've thought about it Stan. The thing is, it'd be the same as using the dildo, or even worse. I'd still be the one in charge, still be in complete control. And at least I know the dildo will go through with it, there's a good chance Butters would back out before it got past the point where it hurts and starts getting good. Unless I can completely hide my initial pain, he'd start apologizing and going soft in guilt the second I winced. There's also the obvious question …if you have to _ask _for it to start, and then beg and cajole to keep it going…in what sense are you being dominated?"

Stan chewed his lip thoughtfully, leaving a moment of silence before Kyle spoke up.

"Have you considered maybe…" Kyle's voice grew heavy with embarrassment again, "getting him drunk and getting him to do it?" When both Kenny and Stan stared at him, completely astounded at that particular suggestion escaping Kyle's anti-drinking brain. He flushed till his forehead matched the roots of his hair, but somehow still stammered out his reasoning. "A-a-alcohol can make people act funny. We've never really seen him completely wasted. M-m-maybe it'd make him a little bolder. Then, we'll you'd still be asking, but he would probably put up less resistance, which mean's you'd wouldn't have to be as in control."

Kenny scoffed, "Dude, you want me to get my boyfriend drunk, on the off chance it'd make him an insensitive fucking machine? No way would that work."

Unsurprisingly, Stan took Kyle's side, "Think about it Ken. Even if it doesn't make him want to do it, he'd be more willing to try. And he might be too drunk to notice when it hurts you at first. Once he's in there and moving, I know…well I'd imagine, you're good enough to make sure he's enjoying himself too much to even think about stopping." Kenny was glad that Stan's telltale flush at the near slip and his cover-up was unnoticed by Kyle.

Kenny nodded slowly, but his thoughtful frown let it show that he was not yet fully convinced.

"It has a chance of working," Kyle defended his idea. "Even if you have to do all the work the first time, if you get him to the point where he enjoys it, he's more likely to initiate that kind of stuff in the future. Which is what you want? I know it's a stretch and it definitely won't turn him into a total top, but you don't want that anyway right?"

Kenny nodded, agreeing that a permanent transformation in his boyfriend was definitely not what he desired. This need, even strong as it was, in the grand scale of things was only a temporary thing. Like in the past, once he'd satisfied the urge, it would fade away for probably another six months. Then Kenny could go back to enjoying what Butters did best, which was taking everything Kenny could give him, at any place and time Kenny wanted, with incredibly sexy eagerness.

Stan killed any remaining reservations Kenny had with his final thoughts on the matter, "It couldn't hurt to try, Ken. Unless, you'd rather just give up. And I really don't think you'd be this worked up, if you didn't really care about him. Isn't it worth at least giving a chance?"

Kenny could come up with no argument to that statement. There was no doubt in his mind that even a faint shot at making it work with Butters was at least worth trying, no matter how far-fetched. _He's worth that much and more. I guess its time to find out what happens when you get Butters Stotch drunk._


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note:** _Sorry for the delay on this but I've been so very busy! Family vacations, moving, finishing up my TA work and starting up real work! How dare Real life get in the way! But I'm sure no one wants to hear about that! At the same time there's the fact that I've dragged my feet for months on the last three chapters of my other Kenny/Butters story?! _

Worst of all, it turns out this one-shot turned two-shot is now apparently a three-shot. This story has been most inconvenient and written itself longer. For those who wanted Butters…I know he's only in here a tinsy bit. Just hold out for the last chapter! Someone else get's to dominate this chapter instead. I couldn't just bring in Stan and Kyle without giving some face time to the other member of the fearsome foursome! Plus a little deviousness is key to get the rest of it working. Hope you enjoy!

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"Chaos, panic, and disorder…my work here is done." ~Unknown

A Touch of Chaos - II

One normally doesn't consider getting 'so and so' drunk a difficult challenge. Especially not when 'so and so' is a guy in high school. Or your boyfriend. Or so trusting he would let you do all sorts of fun and embarrassing things to him with a pout or a wink. All of that together should have made the task easier than getting Cartman to ditch school for the Shaky's Pizza all-you-can-eat lunch buffet.

Unfortunately, nothing is ever as easy as it should be in South Park. Case in point, Shaky's Pizza bribed the truant officer to take his lunches at their restaurant for the explicit purpose of keeping Cartman, Cartmanez, or any of Eric's other aliases from ever taking advantage of their buffet. Apparently it was cheaper to give the truant officer free lunches every day, rather than risk one day of letting the fat-ass find out just how much pizza qualifies as 'all Cartman can eat.'

Like leading Cartman to unlimited food, how could anyone have guessed that getting Butters Stotch drunk fell under the same South Park magic of easy-turned-impossible. Filled with confidence at the ease of the task, Kenny had left Kyle's house to pick up a six-pack of beer from his dad's fridge. He wasn't even worried about getting caught with the theft. In spite of their intense poverty, the fridge always remained filled with cheap beer, so much that his father never noticed when Kenny or Kevin helped themselves. How his family could afford an endless supply of beer yet only stock their pantries with canned corn and pop tarts was another of those South Park conundrums.

All too soon Kenny was in Butters bedroom, receiving an over eager hug from his adoring boyfriend the second the door closed on the all too suspicious Mr. Stotch. After a bit of much needed making out, Kenny had slipped the beer out of his backpack with a mischievous grin. Trouble had followed almost immediately.

"N-n-no way Ken," even Butters had seemed a bit shocked at the vehemence of his refusal.

Kenny had of coursed pulled out all of his usual responses to 'n-n-no,' but somehow winks, pouts, pleading, peer pressure, even dirty promises were met with stubborn refusal. With a final huff of very unhappy defeat Kenny was reduced to a plaintive and almost whiny, "Why not?"

"B-b-because if I get drunk and my mom and dad find out I'll be grounded forever and ever. A-a-nd beer tastes gross. An' my dad says I'll get cirrhosis and my whole body will rot out if I ever get drunk. And alcohol just makes people do bad things! I don't wanna do bad stuff Ken!" The list ended with an almost plaintive look of worry on Butters face that cut the wind form Kenny's sails quite neatly.

The humor in Butters finally standing up to Kenny on something that just happened to be the corner stone to a plot to get Butters to stand up and take charge in the first place was completely lost on the frustrated Kenny. Kenny was far too busy grumbling unhappily as he slipped the beer back in his backpack unopened. He fell on the bed with a most dissatisfied 'thump.' He would have proceeded to indulge in a bout of pouting if Butters hadn't curled up to his side and asked if he was 'mad.' It took an hour of indulgent and attentive cuddling to convince Butters that he wasn't angry at him for saying no. During this time Kenny's mind was reviewing the list of reasons. He was determined to find a way around them. This ended up being easier for some than others.

Beer tastes gross? Kenny could work with that, after all there were dozens of sweet drinks that he was sure Butters would find tasty. One night of getting drunk causing cirrhosis? That was just a typical 'Mr. Stotchism,' like an assortment of others such as 'kissing boys causes aids,' and 'skipping a class will make you retarded.' Kenny had faced those obstacles before and solved them easily enough by bringing in Kyle to play 'expert,' and explain that Mr. Stotch was stretching the truth. No, Timmy had not been a regular boy before missing a day of math class once in second grade. No, Cartman got his aids from a blood transfusion and gave it to Kyle the same way with needles.

A bit of pleading on Monday and a reminder that it had been Kyle's idea to begin with would secure the Jew's help. Yes, alcoholism causes cirrhosis, but it takes years and years of heavy drinking, not one night. Kyle might not personally be a fan of underage drinking anymore than skipping class, but he was a firm believer in 'informed decisions,' not the insane scare tactics of the Scotches.

But the other two reasons on Butters list were more difficult. Butters would never do something that might make him behave like a terrible person. Not willingly anyway. And it was true alcohol did sometimes bring out the worst in people. Hell Kenny was counting on it in this case. His other complaint was equally viable. Getting around the Stotches themselves was far harder than undermining their outright lies. Hiding a drunk Butters from his parents would be quite a challenge, especially with the harsh rules he lived under. Butters had to be home by a certain time every night, to submit to a rather strict inspection by his parents before bed. Likewise they were opposed to sleepovers and forbade parties. They were also increidbly suspicious of that unsavory 'Kenny' kid and his friends by association. Something had convinced them he was a bad influence on Butters. As if! Well ok, so he was trying to get him drunk…and had taken his virginity….and got him to skip class every now and then. But really, they didn't know about any of that so they had no reason to be so suspicious. It was very rude and untrusting of them.

After a few days of worrying over those two obstacles, Kenny resigned himself to the unfair fact that life was conspiring against him yet again. Getting Butters drunk wouldn't be an easy task after all. Not even a challenging task. This might fall under the category of 'nigh improbable, nay impossible.' Of course if life was going to be unfair, then Kenny could be unfair as well. This was why he was currently standing in front of the waitress at Shaky's Pizza.

"Aren't you two supposed to be in school?" had been the woman's response the instant he'd stepped through the door.

Kenny grinned weakly at the woman as he tried to remember what he'd been told to say. Behind him his date elbowed him sharply.

"Oh, um…well…you see…I get to leave for the second half of school to work. 'Cause I'm so poor," Kenny gritted his teeth at his 'lines' but endured. It was all untrue of course, but his accomplice assured him that poor people did it all the time. And everyone knew that Kenny's family was the poorest around.

Unbelievably the woman nodded in acceptance of the excuse before motioning behind Kenny.

"And your friend?" the woman asked.

"She's my…uh….date," Kenny replied weakly. "Obviously she's poor too, since she's my girlfriend." It was a very damned good thing Kenny needed help so badly or he'd have already turned around, punched his date in the gut and stormed out. He was starting to see red when yet again the waitress accepted the insulting and incredibly biased logic. Instead he ground his teeth together and tried to make it look like a smile.

"Does she have a problem answering for herself," the woman replied still a bit suspicious.

Kenny froze a moment. There'd been no preparation for that question. Fortunately he thought of a good answer and for the first time that day a genuine smirk slipped across his face.

"Her throat's sore. Since she's poor she works the streets at night," Kenny added with a knowing wink. "Her mom's a huge whore, picked the habit up from her."

Behind him a muffled 'hey,' of outrage slipped out and a fairly meaty fist punched him just out of sight of the waitress. Kenny ignored the pain with a smile. _So worth it._

The waitress's eyebrows rose in complete shock at the crass statement, but at least it got her to stop asking questions. With a very uncomfortable nod she showed them to a table. Kenny slumped into his with relief and across from him his date flopped down heavily. He tried not to groan when his date scratched herself in a place most girls didn't touch themselves at in public.

"What will you two have to drink," the waitress asked as she did her best not to stare rudely at Kenny's date.

"I'll have a Coke," Kenny replied automatically. A long pause ensued and Kenny realized the waitress was still staring at him. When he looked across the table he also saw that his date was glaring at him. Suddenly he remembered his sore throat excuse and that he had to answer for 'her,' as well. "Oh, yeah…um she'll have a Diet coke. She's watching her figure."

The entire table jumped as a sharp kick hit Kenny in the shins and slammed his knee upward. _Still worth it,_ Kenny thought as he grinned through yet more pain. The waitress hastily retreated from the table to get away from the weird couple.

Across the table his date watched the waitress leave before leaning across the table and growling angrily in a hushed voice.

"God damnit it Kenny. You shut up about my mom. And you're giving me your Coke. Who drinks fucking Diet? It tastes like watery shit."

"Whatever you say, Erica dear," Kenny replied sarcastically. "I just can't believe she bought your disguise."

"Whatevah! I knew it would work," 'Erica' Cartman said with a derisive snort. "I was more afraid she'd be suspicious about a faggot like you having a girlfriend as hot as me."

"Faggot? I've slept with way more girls than you have. Besides you're the one who's dressed up as a girl."

'Erica' Cartman frowned thoughtfully as 'she' considered the logic of that statement. Rather than admit defeat, 'she' dismissed the entire thing by stomping off to the buffet. Kenny tried not to shudder at the way the top of the hot pink skirt was covered by hanging stomach flab and the bottom revealed way too much thigh and ass. _Where had Cartman even found a short skirt in his size? More importantly …WHY had Cartman picked a short skirt to begin with?!_

Cartman reached the buffet, piling slice after slice of pizza on his plate. At one point he had to lean over to get even more pizza after clearing all the stuff on his side. Seeing what was coming Kenny averted his eyes. Judging from the loud gagging sounds some other poor diner hadn't been so quick to look away and gotten several eyefuls of Cartman's bulging panty-covered ass. When Cartman turned to head back to the table Kenny took a very quick, stealthy picture with his cellphone. It was a glorious image to have on record. 'Erica,' sashayed back to the table oblivious to the queasy looking customers rapidly signaling for a waitress as he sauntered past their tables. Kenny tried to force his face to something friendly and not repulsed as he watched his date adjust her leopard print half-shirt and ridiculous black wig into something more presentable. It was a horrid disguise to begin with, made only worse when Cartman reached his seat and began scarfing down pizza slices in a most un-ladylike manner. Surreptitiously, Kenny checked his cell to see if the picture had taken. The image would be worth months of blackmail if he didn't sell it outright to Kyle outright for his bag of Jew gold. Kenny smirked at the thought of what he could do with that money before he pushed the thoughts aside with a regretful sigh. He reminded himself that he couldn't sell the image. He needed the fat-asses help after all. _Speaking of which._

"So, about my problem with Butters…" Kenny began leadingly.

"Not now! I don't want to talk about that fag while I'm eating," Cartman muttered around a mouthful of food.

Kenny glowered and leaned in ominously. He swatted Cartman's hand away from the plate to get his full attention.

"First, don't ever call Butters a fag, fat-ass," Kenny threatened. Once he was sure the message had come across he softened the menace with a joke, "Secondly, if I wait till you're done eating, we'll both be in our sixties."

Cartman opened his mouth to deliver a vicious retort of his own, but started coughing instead and looked down at his plate demurely. Surprised at the reaction, Kenny fell back into his seat when the waitress set their drinks down on the table. Kenny schooled his angry look into something more pleasant as he thanked her for the drinks. She left quickly, tossing more odd looks over her shoulders at them.

"Nice going poor piece of shit. You almost blew our cover," Cartman growled.

"Please, if anything blows our cover, it'll be you when your shirt explodes. Why in hell did you stuff your bra so much anyway? Your fake boobs are straining that thing."

Cartman's face turned violently red and his reply was a weak mumble.

"What'd you say, Erica?" Kenny said sarcastically as he leaned in.

"I said I didn't stuff, I just put on a bra," Cartman responded red faced.

"Dude!? You mean those are your man boobs," Kenny tried not to laugh, feeling immensely better about the suffering he'd endured so far that day. _God I wish I could tell Kyle about this. He'd kill to hear about Cartman's moobies. _

"Shut your goddamned mouth, Kenneh!" Cartman shouted. Realizing he had the full attention of the restaurant, Cartman started coughing harshly again, before burying his face in his pizza.

For his part, Kenny struggled to hide his mirth while he sat back to let Cartman finish his meal in peace. _You need his help,_ Kenny's inner conscience sternly reminded him when he started to get impatient again. And it was very true. Carman had the two skills he needed at this moment in time. Cartman had time and time again convinced Butters that 'bad things,' weren't that bad. That included sacrificing himself to over a dozen men of NAMBLA, shooting cops, harassing the Chinese, and threatening to blow up a hospital. Equally important, Cartman could manipulate the adults of South Park with disarming ease. That included the Stotches, who in spite of his many atrocities against their son, still considered the fat jerk one of the 'good kids.'

It was only because of those two skills that Kenny was willing to put up with such a pleasant lunch date with Cartman. Their usual interactions were far less cordial, back and forth insults for a few minutes before someone walked off in a huff. It might seem odd behavior for kids who were supposedly the best of friends, but in this case it was absolutely necessary for the friendship. No one could stay Cartman's buddy if they didn't have a high threshold for aggravation and an ingrained ability to just 'walk away.'

Kenny had developed a thick skin ages ago, learning to tolerate Cartman simply because there was no other choice. Friends by default, you could say, if such a thing existed. Even when younger, Stan and Kyle were so tight even their closest friends felt like third wheels. And over time Cartman just became something you had to get used to, like a tumor that was malignant and couldn't be removed safely, but wouldn't kill you outright. A two hundred and eighty pound tumor that was greedy, racist, and rude on a good day. Yet this tumor had his uses. Especially when it came to convoluted schemes. Emphasis on the convoluted part. Perhaps because of that easy-turned-impossible quality of South Park, Cartman had developed a talent for finding very strange ways to get from point A to point B. Of course he usually did this by taking you through points C, Q, and X. But what mattered was that his plans actually worked most of the time. Granted there was always trouble with them, sometimes a scandal, and on the rare occasion casualties. And as the most common casualty of Cartman's schemes Kenny had good reason to steer clear of them normally. _Of course I have to risk it this time. When it comes to getting Butters to come around, Cartman is the best._

During Kenny's inner argument with himself, as he pondered yet again his friendship with Cartman and the shaky wisdom of seeking the jerk's help, 'Erica' continued assaulting the pizza buffet. Kenny returned to reality only when a loud slam signaled Cartman's angry return from his third trip to the bar. Before Kenny had a chance to ask just what was wrong, Cartman pointed to his plate angrily.

"What the hell? How slow do those bitches cook? We've been here ten minutes and those god damn lazy ho's haven't put anything fresh out. All you can eat? There were only three pizza's up there when we got in." Cartman reached onto his plate, picking up the single tiny piece of cheese pizza that had survived his last two trips. He brandished it at Kenny, the piece dangling as he gestured with it. "They better put more fuckin' pizza out soon. I'll starve if this is all I have to eat." No mention was made of the three pizzas that Cartman had demolished already before being left with the single slice.

The first reaction to the very idea of Cartman starving was to snort out loud. Thankfully Kenny suppressed it, instead adopting a business like manner. He leaned forward across the table and tried to look serious as he tried to return Cartman's attention to their deal. While the poor staff was desperately attempting to restock the pizza bar there'd be no chance of the fat-asses enormous appetite distracting him.

"So while you're stuck waiting…about Butters," Kenny began.

"God Kenny," Cartman rolled his eyes, "Why do you have to keep bringing that fa-" he stopped mid sentence at the glare from Kenny. Wisely he instead consumed the small slice of pizza in a single bite. While he chewed he continued, looking not the least bit contrite. "Whatevah. He is one or he wouldn't let you fuck him. Don't see what 's the difference between calling him a homo, ass pounder, or a fa-."

"Cartman…" Kenny could feel his face heating up in irritation as his tone turned sharp in warning yet again.

"Jesus! Get the sand out of your vagina and take a joke! When did you decide to be the pussy in the relationship?" Cartman grumbled in irritation.

Kenny felt the flush turn a bit darker and he hoped Cartman assumed it was still anger and not embarrassment. He had no intention of ever telling Cartman why he wanted to get Butters to drink. Even Kenny couldn't handle the kind of teasing he'd suffer if Cartman ever found out that he wanted Butters to be the 'man,' every now and then. Quickly he tried to push the topic of drinking back into the conversation before Cartman's inner asshole realized there was more to this than trying to get his boyfriend to loosen up.

"So have you thought of how I can get around the objections Butters has?"

"Easy," Cartman replied with a snort. "You'll need rope, a funnel, some tubes, and a clothespin to keep his nose closed."

"Cartman! The deal was to get him to drink without hurting him," Kenny growled.

"How will that hurt him? Except for the tying him down part, frats do this stuff all the time in movies. Tell him the ropes part of bondage, then tell him to close his eyes, shove the tube in and pour the beer into the funnel. He'll let you put anything in his mouth if you tell him it's a surprise, trust me I know."

This time it was Cartman's turn to grit his teeth through pain at the sharp kick to his leg under the table.

"What the Hell Kenneh?" Cartman replied angrily as tears formed in his eyes.

"You know what happens if you bring up the shit you used to do to him," Kenny replied as evenly as he could manage. It was one of those quirks of thief friendship that was necessary for smooth sailing. Walking away from Cartman shouting insults about poor ghetto trash was easy. Walking away from Cartman insulting his boyfriend was a very different matter. So he'd worked out a system, Cartman went too far and Kenny would hit him. It did a lot to ease Kenny's aggravation, but made little impression on Cartman's overall behavior. Cartman sported a new bruise at least once a week from crossing the 'Butters line,' with Kenny in conversation.

Cartman muttered angrily again but didn't storm away. Kenny relaxed as Cartman's face lost the pout and returned to pensive. Like Kenny, he'd learned long ago just to tolerate certain things for the sake of having a friend. Even if it was a friend-by-default. He wouldn't change his behavior, god knows that was impossible. But he could ignore some of the consequences of his actions, such as the shooting pain in his leg where the poor shit had kicked him.

"I got it," Cartman finally spoke up again a devious smirk on his face, "I'll grab some freshmen and cover them with purple spots. Then we'll make sure he sees them in school. Next we arrange a fake announcement in school about the deadly Grape-aloma virus which is only treatable by drinking beer. Then you sneak up to his room in the middle of the night and dye him purple too. You'll have to hold him back from charging to the liquor store and drinking the place dry to cure himself the next day."

"Dude," Kenny rubbed his temple in irritation. "There's so much wrong with that. First, were not going to scare him and make him think he's dying. Second, you can't get the freshman to along without threatening them, and were not hurting people! Lastly you could never get away with faking another school announcement. The principal hid the intercom system controls after what you did last year."

Cartman grinned fondly a moment, recalling the how he'd gotten everyone in the school to hide under their desks for half a day afraid of a nuclear assault, just so he wouldn't have to deal with lines during lunch on Fajita Friday. Then he returned to thinking, irritation slipping back across his face at having to think up yet another plan.

"So I can't hurt him and I can't scare him?" Cartman whined.

Kenny only nodded.

"God, just tie my fucking hands why don't you," Cartman grumbled.

"Come on asshole, think," Kenny grumbled right back, "Can't you just once come up with an idea that doesn't end up hurting anyone?"

"What's the fun of that?" Cartman asked letting genuine confusion enter his voice.

"The point is about to be me leaving the restaurant. But not before I go over and ask the waitress to take a closer look at my date."

"OK. Ok. No need to get serious," Cartman growled. "I got it," he added a minute later. There was none of the usual amusement he showed when discussing his convoluted schemes. Kenny considered this a good sign. If the plan wasn't exciting to Cartman hopefully fewer innocent lives were going to be ruined.

"And…" Kenny began after a bit of silence. Cartman was unusually reluctant to discuss his plan, another good sign.

"So you just have to get him to go to a party," Cartman started. Kenny was about to list the problems with that but Cartman raised his hands to forestall the objections. "I know, I know. His parents don't let him go to parties, but that's easy to get around. Just remove the Stotches from the picture and he'll be able to stay out as late as he wants."

"We're not going to kidnap his parents," Kenny replied. Unlike his earlier complaints though, this one was only half felt. Kenny couldn't deny that there was a certain appeal to the idea of tormenting the Stotches. Unfortunately for Kenny, for once in his horrific life Cartman wasn't involving violence and criminal activity in his plan.

"I know that you dumb ass piece of ghetto shit. Just shut you're mouth and let me finish."

Kenny ignored the insults easily as he clammed up and let Cartman finish.

"I'll take care of his parents," Cartman began. "And I won't fuckin' hurt them or anything. I'll just give them a reason to leave town for the weekend. I'll tell my mom I feel bad for Butters being stuck home alone. She'll be so touched about how much I care that she'll rush right over and tell them that Butters can stay at my house while they're gone. Friday night I'll tell Butters I'm going to the party at Tokens."

"But he won't go, I've already asked him to go and he said -" Kenny started before a pudgy hand raised to signal him to shut up.

"I know his freak ass parents told him he can't go to parties. But they'll also be telling him he has to stick with me if he's not staying at his house. It's a catch 22; no matter what he does he'll have to break one of their rules. And I'll make sure he chooses to go to the party."

"How do you know he'll pick the party?"

Cartman scoffed. "Dude, I got him to sneak away from the field trip at Pioneer Village and spend the day at Super Phun Thyme because he wasn't willing to break the 'don't let go of you're buddies hand,' rule. Trust me, I have experience with Butters in these kind of situations. He'll break the rule I want him too."

"Without threats?" Kenny reminded Cartman.

"As if I'd waste 'em," Cartman waved dismissively. "Guilt works hella better on Butters than threats ever did."

Kenny felt a little queasy at that comment and Cartman rolled his eyes.

"Don't get squeamish on me. I'll play nice. I'll just make him realize that if he lames out, I'll have to stay home and miss the awesome party. Then I'll go on about how I never get to go to parties and cry a little and say we can stay if he really wants us too." Cartman grinned evilly. "I have no idea why, but he'll totally believe me. As if I'd ever miss a fucking party to hang out with that lame f-" Kenny leaned across the table ominously and Cartman abruptly skipped the last part of his comment, speeding onward to the end of his explanation. "Ah…*cough*…anyway he'll feel so bad that he'll practically drag me to the party."

Kenny grimaced, but couldn't outright complain. As far as Cartman schemes went it was pretty tame so far. Better than he thought it would be actually. Except that it only solved the problem of getting Butters to a party and removed the obstacle of his parents finding him drunk. It still did nothing to get Butters to actually drink.

"So what happens when he gets there?"

"I'll take care of the rest dude. You just keep your distance at the party. Be happy to see him, and then go hang out with Stan and Kyle and be friendly with everyone like you always do at these parties. He'll stick close to me at first and I'll work my magic. Trust me; he'll be pounding drinks before the nights half over. Then he'll be smashed and I'll tell him I don't feel comfortable with my mom seeing him like that. He'll be so scared of being caught out being drunk he'll agree to go straight to his home instead. Then you just swoop in offer to walk him there like the bleeding heart pussy of a boyfriend you are…and bam," Cartman hit the table to emphasize his conclusion. "You get to take him home and do whatever sick things it is he won't let you do while he's sober."

"It's not like that," Kenny started blushing furiously, "I just wa-"

"Dude," a fat hand forestalled anymore from Kenny, "I really don't want to know what kind of shit your going to do to him once he's tanked. Don't care either. It'll be his fault for trusting you in the first place."

Kenny shut his mouth before he confessed to clear his image. In the end he decided he'd rather Cartman believed he was doing this for perverted reasons rather than the real ones. Instead he dragged back to the single part of the plan Cartman was being vague on.

"So, how are you going to convince him to drink at the party?"

"Leave that to me," Cartman said with a wave. "If you know what's going on you'll blow the whole thing. Also don't hover over him like you do at school. I need space to work. Just be yourself, except don't be all faggy over Butters." Abruptly Kenny's face darkened again as he aimed another blow at Cartman for crossing the line. Cartman dodged the kick shouting back defensively, "I called you faggy not Butters, that's allowed."

Kenny grudgingly stopped trying to hurt Cartman, giving a curt nod at the technicality Cartman had snuck under. Still he kept his serious and threatening face on. There was something bothersome about leaving Butters alone at a party with Cartman. Kenny wasn't going to take that kind of chance without assurances.

"So you promise you won't scare or hurt him?"

"Don't you trust me?" Cartman said with an air of mock innocence that convinced Kenny that Cartman was planning on cheating to get Butters to drink. He was undoubtedly going to resort to his usual underhanded tactics, perhaps even force the beer down trusting Butters throat the second Kenny wandered away at the party. He reached into his pocket deciding he needed to tip the scales and force Cartman to play nice.

"No, I don't trust you. Luckily, I don't have to," Kenny replied. He flashed his cellphone, showing Cartman the image of Erica sashaying back to the table from the pizza buffet. "If you do cross the line, this gets sent to Kyle. Call it insurance."

Cartman lunged across the table for the cellphone but Kenny quickly returned it to his pocket.

"Da fuck Ken?! Delete that picture right now!"

"Not until Saturday morning," Kenny stubbornly refused. "Even if it doesn't work I'll delete it. But only if you keep to our agreement. No threats, no scare tactics, and you don't hurt him. You manipulate him as nicely as you can."

"Fuckin' A Kenneh! You're breaking my balls here!"

Cartman was about to lunge again for the phone when the argument was forestalled by the waitress fumbling towards the buffet, laden with fresh, steaming pizzas. Cartman froze a second, hunger and anger warring for control of his pudgy face. It was a short lived battle, Cartman finally giving in to hunger and resigning himself to the sad fact that he'd have to actually keep his promise. Cartman stood up and angrily stormed off to the buffet. He'd actually have to play fair for once and that meant it'd be a lot harder to get Butters to do what he wanted. Clearly he would need to eat lots of brain food to help.

Meanwhile Kenny tried to blame the churning in his stomach on the disgusting site of Eric eating and not the sense of foreboding that Cartman's schemes always instilled in him. He turned away from the sick display of both the fat-asses body straining at the girly clothes and the pizza being shoveled into Cartman's gaping maw. Unfortunately this left him staring out a window yet again, something he'd been doing all too often as of late. For the rest of the meal Cartman continued his relentless march to and from the buffet until the moment the Shaky's Pizza manager announced an end to their lunch buffet an hour early. Apparently a frantic cook had just informed him that they'd used up an entire weeks worth of dough and sauce.

While Cartman began digesting Shaky's profits for the month, Kenny realized that he was right back to where he had been Sunday. _I'm still stuck watching the grass grow and worrying. I can't believe I'm unleashing Cartman on Butters. Still I have the picture and the plan seems fair. What's the worst that could happen?_


End file.
